


(love like you)

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Female Friendship, Guilt, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, SHSL Rare Pair Week, Secret Relationship, Stream of Consciousness, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don’t let the strain show—just smile, smile, smile, and shine, shine, shine. You can do it!!</p>
<p>It would have been fine had she not been selfish.</p>
<p>But she's not sharing Naegi. They agreed.</p>
<p>(An (almost) pure introspection revolving around Sayaka's struggles in the idol industry and a relationship she has to keep secret for reputation's sake.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	(love like you)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for SHSL Rare Pair Week, cross-posted from my tumblr and taking cues from the two possible prompts.
> 
> I ended up venting a lot. And I haven't gone this far in a while. Felt like I was back in high school. I actually want to tackle this subject again and expand it into something a little more, but for now this is all there is.

There’s an ideal idol image she held onto ever since she was a little girl. Singing brightly, smiling brightly, and shining brightly. Being so bright that none of the bruises show. Don’t even break a sweat—be  _spirited_  but make it look simple,  _instinctual_.

Work hard but make it look effortless. Don’t let the strain show—just smile, smile, smile, and shine, shine, shine.  ** _You can do it!!_**

It’s what she’s held onto, eyes and smile bright as she sings her heart out in front of her adoring, admiring fans. She laughs with her fellow singers too—a picturesque bunch even with Ayaka whose friendship she pours even more love into. Ayaka is so considerate of her, doesn’t even compete, and that’s the best image to put forward when it comes to their group. Camaraderie, consideration, and a connection that keeps them together. Comrades, it’s like. With her cheerfully leading the way, even though behind their bright smiling faces, she’s the one they have to hold onto, and it’s Ayaka especially who strokes her hair while she’s shaking despite her still smiling.

She’s sincere, if nothing else, in how much it’s clear she  _cares_ —for her ‘coworkers’, her fans, her career. She cares. Which is why she can’t keep cutting it close like this.

It could all come crashing down if she continued like this.

_But... **But**..._

* * *

It’s supposed to be chaste. Completely chaste. Carefree camaraderie, utterly uncorrupted. That’s it. That’s all. That’s all that’s allowed.

 It would have been fine had she not been selfish. Naegi certainly wouldn’t have stepped over that thin, precarious line, not with his consideration and carefulness. He was kinder than even Ayaka but he was also naïve, overly idealistic in a way that was painfully genuine and  _god_ , he believed that in that ideal so easily she envied him. He even did so in a way that was  _endearing_ —so unabashedly sweet. 

She’s supposed to be completely chaste, and she’s the one who kissed him first. Kissed him hard too, hidden in the hallways, apologizing to above while praying that poor luck didn’t ruin all of this. Consuming those kind, caring words hungrily, and it was as fast as the ‘click’ of a camera how deeply she found herself embedded in Naegi as though he were yet another lifeline, a solace where she could shed those smiles and songs that while she loved them so dearly, they were still sharp and stung as she clung to them.

Clinging to Naegi didn’t hurt— _wasn’t a strain_ —and she was just  _so_   ** _selfish_**.

In a lot of ways, she felt like she was taking advantage of him too, of his kindness and thoughtfulness, and it wasn’t like Ayaka where they had to support one another—Naegi certainly didn’t need her support. He was upright—stout already even with how adorably short he was, and she envied that as much as she adored him for it.

Perhaps she was too weak as well, wanting to clasp onto him like she was still stuck climbing, all the while pressing herself close in a way that grossly contrasted that struggling crane she saw him save all the way back in middle school. She even cuddled close to him— _in dark, **dark**  rooms behind a door shut tight_—and he’d stroke her hair, he’d kiss her too, chaste and caring like it was supposed to be but somehow it all felt  ** _wrong_**  still even when Naegi himself was utterly pristine and—

She still finds it hard, sometimes, calling him ‘Makoto’ like she should be, with how deep in the throes of a relationship the two of them are in. He uses ‘Sayaka’ so simply, says it like it’s a sweet sound to hear, and he always smiles so wide, so sincerely, and when they’re pressed close together, fingers entwined, he says that he loves her in a way that’s so without shame and without secret that it’s just something to accept wholeheartedly.

She thinks—she really,  _really_  thinks that she might love him as much as she possibly could—that her heart is as swelled as it could get before it bursts—and even with all that, it was no match for that ‘love you, Sayaka’.

But she says it—she repeats that she likes him— _loves him_ —so much when they aren’t even in bed together that he should have been sick of it by now.

But Naegi still looks at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky; that she shines so brightly that those who are lost are relieved, and his hold on her is secure like he has no intention of letting her fall from that sky. Even if he’s still watching her from the ground.

A lot of the time, being in love does feel a lot like falling.

It’s scary. Even when she knows Naegi’s there to catch her. Falling is scary and for a star, it’s  _fierce_ — ** _flaring_**  and  ** _burning_**  until everything is  ** _ash_**. But Naegi’s hold remains secure, even tightening when she buries her face into his shoulder.

And shamefully, it’s these moments she might just like the most—Naegi’s scent, mixed with the smell of sex, and his warmth wrapped around her, his lips pressed to her hair and always whispering those sweet loving sentimentalities. It should be cheesy, overly cute with how he is—it  _is_  cheesy at times, he  _is_  cute, he’s so  _schmaltzy_ and he’s  _sweet_. He’s one of the sweetest people she knows.

But.  ** _But_**.

Perhaps the reason why this all feels so right is, in fact,  _because_  it’s all wrong. Because she’s been broken already. Bright smiles, bright songs, shining brightly—all to hide that she was breaking.  _But that was okay!_ Her friends—her group would put her back together, especially with Ayaka’s sharp yet meticulous touch and...

**_Naegi-kun would also..._**

...Naegi was a problematic factor that should have never been involved. Naegi was kind to her, good to her, but he posed a threat to everything she had painstakingly built up. He loved her, was  _right_  for her—but as the way things were, it was all so very  _wrong_. A disaster waiting to happen once it came to light that she wasn’t ‘ _pristine_ ’—that, in fact, she had this guy since  _high school_ , and had made that first move—that they had gotten _intimate_  and she gluttonously indulged. Thoughtless— _tactless_ — ** _scandalous_**!

They’d be crushed—and she’d be utterly  _razed_  in return for such disgustingness. She’d be shoved off that pedestal, and she’d be lucky if her desecrated reputation crumbled into dust and that’d be the end of everything...but...

Surely... _Naegi-kun would remain by her side_? Even when Ayaka and the others no longer could risk her wretched ruination?

It was selfish of her to hope for that much. She’d been keeping him as a secret as though he were something  ** _dirty_** —as though she was  _ashamed_  of him, of being with him, of saying that she  _liked_  him and  _kept **liking**_  him, her love only nurtured by those short precious moments where they were together even if it was out of sight—and that simply wasn’t true. It was...the way things were. Naegi deserved better. He deserved someone who didn’t have to work hard  _at all_ to be wonderful. She had known this. She had always known that not just Naegi’s own life, but everything would be so much better had she never told Naegi she liked him, never smiled and said yes when he sheepishly asked her out—and if she had never taken Naegi’s hand once graduation had come and gone.

Naegi even asked if it was alright—she lied to him each time. He must have noticed, but with her tightening her hold on him, he remained pliant. Considerate of her needs—still considering her an idol worthy of worship. But he also sees  _her_ —past her smiles and songs and he still kisses the selfish girl underneath. He kisses her swollen feet, her strained throat, and she’s never more terrified of falling than when he’s holding her. She’s never more scared than when she considers the dark, looming possibility of her slipping through Naegi’s hold—of perhaps Naegi witnessing the mess she makes when she breaks and how he’ll see, really,  ** _really_**  see just how selfish and contemptible those cracked pieces really are.

Because she knows better than anyone how easy it is to believe bright smiles and welcoming words, all a cover for those cracks and that contempt, she knows how cold realization comes when the curtain is pulled. And you’re already chained, and you can only don one of the costumes to join. Or you can crack completely—fall to pieces—and you’ll get naught but a swift dusting up.

She knows how Naegi is—he’s painfully easy to read, outrageously simple to predict to the point he suspects she’s only half-joking when she calls herself psychic, and she’s learned to be perceptive—she can guess how he’d react: kindly, understandingly. He’d try to put her back together. He wouldn’t simply give up on her. Even if it turned out useless, useless, useless, she’d remain this fond, adoring memory and Naegi would hold her dearly close to his heart—his already expansive, welcoming and open heart.  ** _Really_**...

The only real secret she has involving Naegi that she’s to the core ashamed about...is how sometimes—sometimes when she steps back from him, there’s a fostering resentment that creeps like bile up her throat. He just makes it look so  _easy_. Everyone certainly smiles around him so  _easily_. He had such an easy,  ** _simple_** life before.

Naegi wouldn’t resent her for it. He should. They should have broken up by now. Stayed in polite yet distant touch like she had with her other former classmates. Sometimes she really wonders.

Falling’s never looked scarier yet she’s still swaying so close to that edge. Ayaka would scold her so harshly and pull her away—but she’d always be reaching and grasping that edge. Naegi was there after all, perfectly stable and unwavering, and his fingers really fit so well with hers.

She could always smile through the swells, sing through the strains, and bubble with energy when her body should have been utterly exhausted. Perhaps she should think of Naegi as the same—just another life to work for and smile through even as she’s the one pulling the strings, yanking the curtain, the smiles she and Naegi give one another and the strokes of skin all stowed away in a chest no one else is allowed to see. Naegi is hers, hers, hers, and she mustn’t  _share_  this.

It’s their secret no one else’s—they agreed on this. The one thing marring Naegi is this secret. But he still tries for her sake, still smiles at her like she’s done no wrong. And he believes it. He knows her selfishness and still he holds her in such warm regard. Overly idealistic— _naïve_ —but so painfully genuine she’s endeared as much as she’s pained.

That pain could have been resentment—and all the same, she hides it, smothers it, and she shoves it far, far back with a few fingers to her throat and chest.  Just smile. Just shine. That ideal idol image. The ideal girlfriend—adoring and accepting and unabashed.

She still can’t call him by his given name.

It’s a rough world out there—all dolled up and laced to hide. Pluck, cover, powder. Smile, smile, smile. Shine, shine, shine. Beam. Exclaim so happily,  _“For you, dearest everyone!!”_

For everyone. Though she holds the hands of her friends on stage tighter than the others. Though she holds Naegi’s hand the tightest behind closed doors. Their fingers always entwine—sometimes Naegi kisses each one and strokes her knuckles with his thumb—they’re burned in her skin like the secret in her head. Her heart. For everything. For everyone.

She asked him once, losing herself for just a moment, if he regretted this. Having to hide, to be so very careful when outside, putting on a show he never should have been a part of— _not someone as **sincere**  as him_—and Naegi admitted it was hard on him. She should have ended things on the spot. Instead she leaned into his hand when he cupped his cheek and smiled, saying he didn’t regret anything.

**_“I-I love you, Naegi-kun.”_ **

* * *

“I love Naegi-kun.” It was stammered and sobbed there, blankly whispered now while Ayaka frowns deeply. Her clenched hands are in Ayaka’s, she’s distantly staring past her friend’s frowning face. For a second she sees Naegi smiling back adoringly as he always did, and she struggles to say what she should have months ago, “M-M...a...k...o...”

“Sayaka,” Ayaka snaps her out of it, strengthening her grip and sternly yet so softly scolding, “You know what could happen if people find out.”

“...Yes...” Empty complacence. She had gotten better. Her eyes never felt dryer.

“You’ve gotten this far... Do you really want that to all come crashing down?”

Falling. Falling is terrifying. She’s scared of slipping, of skidding off that edge and sent careening down. She had to swallow those fears down and climb for so long to get where she was now. But she has to stay steady. She’s still so scared. Falling could still ruin her— ** _she’s so scared of falling_** —

“I love Naegi-kun.”

...Falling...is a lot like being in love. That’s why the phrase goes ‘falling in love’. She’s already ruined, maybe even completely. But. Still. Still, still, still.

“I love Naegi-kun.” she speaks stubbornly, tightening her tone and meeting Ayaka’s gaze directly. Ayaka falters—there’s a sad kind of satisfaction in seeing that—but she doesn’t back down. “I want to be with him. I...love him. Truly. S... _Sincerely_...”

It strained her throat far more than that time when she sang her heart out and was left panting—hands on her knees, face flushed and eyes watery—but she had been smiling once she were able, her performance had never been rawer and she was so happy when it hadn’t been for naught. People bought the singles with that song. But this wasn’t the same.

She can’t spread out that secret for the world to share. She’s not sharing Naegi—he’s hers alone. Raw, emotionally, and irretrievably hers. She wouldn’t give that part of herself to anyone else either. They agreed. Swore. In secret and against one another’s skin—intimate and imprinted so they’d never forget.

“I love Naegi-kun.” She says it again, more times than it’s necessary but enough that Ayaka must know. Ayaka does understand—she sees that Ayaka does with the way she softens. And then Ayaka steadies her. She didn’t even realize she’d been shaking.

“Sayaka, I’ll support you.” Ayaka squeezes her shoulders. Sayaka wants to cry—almost does until she remembers they have a show in just a few minutes. Naegi’s attending this one. As is his cute little sister. So she needs to sing her heart out, smile her widest, shine the brightest. She can do that.

When they call for her and Ayaka, Ayaka gives her a smile, and she takes her hand. Holds it tight and squeezes it to convey her feelings. She squeezes back, and smiles brightly to let her know the show’s officially started. Ayaka gives a cheeky grin and they walk out together to the others to step into that stage again.

When she spots Naegi across the crowd and with his cheering sister— _they gotten so unlucky getting it, they’re practically at the edge of the audience, but she could never miss him_ —she blows a kiss. And, to that clamoring crowd, she jumps into her role. Energetic. Excited. That ideal idol image that everyone clung to so enthusiastically.

“Are you ready?!”

The cheers were unanimous. And once those spotlights were on, she shoved back all those second thoughts.

 


End file.
